His saving grace
by Matthew1972
Summary: At the tail end of their hunt Castiel catches a spell meant for Dean, firm in his believe that his angelic powers are stronger than any mortal magic… but are they? Since his resurrection everything has changed, except for how he's always felt about Sam. What he has kept to himself about loss and love reveals itself as they work together to find a cure for what has a mind of its own
1. Chapter 1

**Author note  
**Set after Castiel spent some time as a human and he got resurrected. The three of them have not met the witch Rowena yet.

* * *

**Chapter one**

Her curse aimed for him had seemed pointless. What had she thought on her last breath? No mere mortal could enchant an angel, or so Castiel believed. Sure, she had been a powerful witch, but her world of magic held little weight in heaven. His grace was bound to fight off the shiver of unease he had felt aimed at him. It would heal him, even when since recent years, after his resurrection, it needed more time than he was accustomed to. Events of late had left heaven on a fragile balance... and it seemed that its lack of force was affecting his powers too. In the heat of the moment he had been confident enough for all three of them to brush it off, along with a triumphant Dean, who'd made the kill on second shot.

Sam though had looked sceptical, worried even. Maybe they should have listened to his hunter's instincts... but then, Sam too had shrugged when Castiel had waved the spell off. He would be fine. After all, his vessel was left intact and he didn't feel any different, at least not yet. As they drove away from the small town her threat to 'make them appreciate the gift of magic' was left behind them... further even with each passing mile. The hunt had ended in the only way it could have done. On that they all agreed.

But two hours into their long drive back to the bunker Castiel had curled up on the leather back seat of the Impala... and to his confusion he had fallen asleep. What was that about? Faced with two worried looks of equal bewilderment and maybe a touch of amusement, from Dean, Castiel could only shrug. Yeah, the way the eldest Winchester had stepped on the breaks and he had ripped him from his deep rest didn't help his awoken feelings of discomfort, not for one bit. "Did you have to?"

"We need gas and snacks." Dean pushed open the door on his side. Its typical loud creak caused by the decades old hinges was an expected sound, but even so Castiel winced at how much louder than usual it grated on his nerves. What the... no, angels didn't curse, and yet he felt like he almost might have done. No one though noticed his unease. "Are you coming?"

Through the opened window Castiel scrunched up his nose at Dean in disgust. No, he wasn't tagging along. The back seat felt too comfortable for him to leave. "I don't need sustenance", he said, while a niggle on his brain entertained the thought of how he'd never before wanted to stay inside of the car for longer than he had to. Baby was Dean's love, but Castiel didn't share his fondness for objects. Still, he supposed that its unique combination of smells included the memories of the men who'd spend most of their lives inside, and they had become pleasant to him. When had that happened?

"No, you don't." Dean looked at Sam with a frown, the brothers sharing a not all that subtle moment of understanding about his blunt reaction, before he rolled his eyes. In the same brisk manner of how he had stopped the car Dean turned away to fill her up. _"Talk to him"_, the gesture had revealed his care from behind gruff manners.

For once Castiel wasn't too fond of the united front formed by the Winchesters. Not when they were aiming it at him. Rather than face their scrutiny Castiel shrugged off his trench coat. What could he say? He wasn't sure if he knew why he had slept so deep. Most odd, since angels didn't sleep. Before, all he had to do was close his eyes and concentrate on his celestial powers to heal himself in but breaths. Not now though...

Maybe his dimmed grace had needed the inner calm sleeping brought humans, but he'd been out for more than an hour and he felt no different for it. Why hadn't it worked? The strangest thing was that he couldn't even name what was going on with his senses or his temper anymore. Were his powers so low now that he needed even more time? It was almost like the witch had ruffled something deep inside of him and it refused to leave. Castiel decided that he would take another nap, to be more patient with his ill at ease grace. After all, his celestial powers were stronger than any magic, weren't they?

"Cas?" Sam broke into his whirlwind of thoughts.

"I am fine."

Grinning at his distracted grumble Sam shook his head at him. Long legs shifted so that he could sit sideways to face Castiel with green eyes full of honest concern and intrigue. "You've been hanging around us for too long. That came out too fast. Try again…"

At the self-aware remark Castiel offered a wry smile to Sam. Caught! He should have known. It was too much of a Winchester thing to say, for especially when the brothers weren't well, they hid behind the same three words. "I will be before we get home", he shrugged while curling up his legs on the seat. It was so tempting to lie back down and let the world deal with its problems by itself. He was _so_ tired of trying to do good, of failing despite of his efforts or maybe because of them, and he was done too with fixing the mistakes he had made far too many off. With his choice made to give in Castiel didn't even fight his yawn. Instead he laid his head down with a mumbled, "I promise, Sam. My grace will protect and heal me."

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

A gentle nudge of a large hand on his shoulder shook him back to awareness. Unamused to get torn from a place of peaceful sunshine Castiel peered out his sleepy head from under his trench coat, blinking at Sam with more confusion than he was comfortable with. "Where are we?"

"At the bunker... home", Sam added the last bit with a wry smile. After a life of travelling from one motel to another he still struggled to trust in that he would not have to move on again. "Come on, sleepy head. Let's..." His voice trailed off while Castiel uncurled from under the coat he must have at some point in his sleep pulled over his upper body to burrow his head under.

"How long?" He blinked into the red light of the setting sun, trying to figure out where so much of the day had gone to.

His question went unheard. Instead of hearing him Sam got distracted by something else. Green eyes flashed to where they fixed onto the top of Castiel's head. "Are those..." Almost enchanted and in wide eyed interest he reached out to his hair to pet him there.

Castiel blinked at the hunter's show of unexpected closeness, lost for a moment by how he could feel the long fingers brush over his scalp to curl around a sensation that held no logic within. A far different than any other caress he'd ever experienced in his thousands of years as an angel sent a spark of pleasantness down his head, neck and into his spine. It felt so good that he closed his eyes with a soft, but deep rumble of a sigh. "Sam?"

Sam pulled back with a small blush, as if painfully aware how he'd acted on his impulse. "Cas, I am sorry, I didn't mean to, but they're... dude, you've got cat ears now."

"What?!" The absurdity of the blurted-out words was too much to take in at once.

"Yeah, furry and black ears above your own. They're hard to miss and... well, they are kind of cute." Something in Sam had switched from shock into a soft, but wry smile of fondness. From his almost apologetic shrug Castiel remembered another conversation they'd had. He'd seen Sam with a kitten once, a scruffy thing at best, which had clung to him with pitiful meows. Dean though had sneezed, grumbled about allergies and that no pets were allowed in _his_ car. And so, because they'd been out on a hunt, his decision was the end of it. They'd dropped the ball of fur off at a local shelter, but Sam had sulked and Castiel had learned of how much he had wanted to take the tiny being home.

Slow to snap himself back to the meaning of his current predicament Castiel stared at Sam in shock. "Can't be..." He reached out to feel for himself, flinching when at last his hands found the ears and his mind connected the dots on the truth he could no longer ignore. They were real! No, had magic taken a hold of him? How come?

"The hell?!" Dean bowed down to fill in the gap between the car door and his crouching brother. One look at Castiel and his body language tensed up to one of ill ease. His expression too went from tired to annoyance in the blink of an eye. Sure, their hunt was over, but they had come home with a new case on their hands. When would they ever get a break? Over the last two months their feet had barely hit the concrete floors of the bunker. "Son of a bitch! That witch got to you after all."

Too loud! His voice triggered an uncomfortable sensation in Castiel, one which made him jump and cringe at once. Further driven by a need for space to figure out what was going on he uncurled his body away from the seat. Though the brothers were blocking off his exit route from the car he pushed them aside with ease, using his inhuman strength, but not too much of it to hurt them. Ignoring their indignant grunts as they tumbled aside, he fled into the bunker... his coat left forgotten on the back seat.

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

His mirror image blinked back at him. Castiel looked at himself in shock. To feel his feline ears was one thing, but to see them point up large and alert from his dark hair above his vessel's human ones quite another. The inescapable truth twitched on top of his head to seek out sounds he wouldn't be able to hear without them. Dean and Sam... they were calling out for him, running down one corridor, and into the next. A twinge of fondness at their concern washed over him. Maybe he had to let them know where he was, but then, how he could he face their questions?

None of his feline half made sense to him. Why had his angel grace not fought it off? Or had it prevented worse? Castiel sighed over his initial assumptions. He'd underestimated the witch, that much was obvious now. Hindsight... and so he dismissed it, since he could no more ask a dead person for help than any mere mortal could, not while on Earth.

Movement in the low corner of his sight startled him. At another glance in the mirror his eyes widened in further shock. Was that a tail? As if to answer him it curled up high enough for him to wrap his fingers and palm around its soft end. What the... he could feel that both ways! The charcoal black tail of thick fur was his, it had to be. Setting it free he leaned his head to the side in thought. Well, if nothing else, at least he could fit some pieces about his change in behaviour together. Didn't cats sleep a lot more than humans did? And were they not a little erratic in temper?

Expected footsteps interrupted his contemplative moment. Through the large mirror, which ran from the ceiling to the floor, he saw how Sam was walking into the guest bedroom at the far end of the bunker to join him. Castiel smiled to himself at how Sam had reined in his usual present self a little, trying not to move fast or unexpected out of his fear of spooking him. Well, he supposed that if one hunter knew creatures better than anyone else it was Sam, who buried himself in lore for the fun of it. He though need not worry. Castiel knew in his heart that Sam wouldn't judge him for what he'd become, nor would Dean. They would rather aim towards solutions.

Observing Sam move with an added sense of curiosity, that of a cat, Castiel observed the hunter in his approach. When would he notice? Ah, there it was! Eyes roved over his backside, or rather his tail, which poked out from the tear in his trousers, and back up again to meet his in reflection without reproach. The same slow dawning recognition that he'd felt but seconds ago met him by the time Sam had closed the distance between them. "Cas?" Two gentle hands fell onto his shoulders from behind. "Here you are."

Unable, and unwilling too, to deny himself the support of his presence Castiel leaned into his hold while he met his eyes through the mirror. "Here I am."

"May I?"

Castiel needed no more words to understand his intentions, for they were all conveyed in the mirrored look of care and interest. Sam had a natural born greed to try and make sense of the world around him. A need to learn, not as a hunter alone, but also as a man in search of answers to life. Amused by how with all of their differences they had this trait more in common than anything else Castiel nodded. "You may."

Without pause Sam brushed his long fingers from his shoulder over his hair to touch first one ear and then the other. Almost startled again by how enjoyable a caress it had become to him Castiel felt how the pleasure ran down his spine and into his tail. "Oh", he belatedly bit down a moan. "That's..."

"Good huh?" Sam half whispered above his head, seemingly more aware now of his heightened animal hearing. "Makes sense, for a cat."

"Not to an angel."

Sam's reflection offered him a wry smile. "Perhaps not, but maybe he can accept that he's not as powerful as he thought? Not when it comes to magic at least."

Where a grumbled protest rested on his lips it turned to a sigh of bliss instead. Sam's long fingers had dug into the combined mess of fur and hair between his cat ears. They scratched over his skin, leaving him breathless under how good it felt, before wrapping back around his ear and doing it all over again. "Unfair..." Was he purring? "... you know more about cats than I do." Almost desperate for more, despite of his lame attempt at a protest on behalf of his dignity, Castiel leaned his head against the chest behind him, at last meeting Sam's eyes beyond the mirror by looking up at the larger man.

"I'll teach you."

Was Sam flirting? His smile suggested as much, but before Castiel could process it, not helped much by those sinful fingers wrecking an unprecedented pleasure from him, a new presence filled in the gap of the left open door. Dean.

"Gee. You two... get a room."

Castiel whimpered at the cold, unwanted air which replaced Sam in a blur of movement. Annoyed by the return of awkward tension around him he glared at Dean for ruining the moment and tearing his pleasure away. So, what if none of them did hugs or feelings well? Something inside of him ached to feel Sam's knowing hands pet him again. He even felt tempted to raid the kitchen or to curl up on his bed and sleep for a while. Maybe his cravings were nothing more than the spell? These seemed feline needs, not his own, and yet... did he not deep down long to discover and maybe enjoy a few of the more Earthly pleasures? Was this a curse or a gift? Castiel wasn't sure of anything in the moment.

Everything in him tensed up again at the loud sneeze, which cut into his thoughts and ears. Dean glared back at him, confused and hurt, sneezing again with a frustrated groan of realisation at how his dislike of cats seemed to affect both of them. "Great, now I am allergic to you."

Pained by seeing that Dean had gone sad on them, even though he hid it well, Castiel closed the distance between them in but strides. Reaching out with two of his fingers he asked, "May I heal you?"

Dean sniffed and brushed a finger over his nose to scratch the itch the both of them had no say over. "If you can." He shrugged, his appearance nonchalant but for the eager in his eyes. Annoyed as he was, he too seemed concerned for him. Could Castiel still use his angel powers? Dean didn't know how it continued to pulse hot like electricity inside of his core... couldn't see or feel it with his more limited human senses.

Happy to show that despite appearances he was still himself too Castiel put his fingers against Dean's forehead. Closing his eyes, he called upon his grace to let it chase out the allergies in his friend. There! Found... and sent away. Opening his bright blue glowing eyes, he nodded at Dean. "Done." As he restrained his grace back into his vessel, he offered both brothers a smile. "Whatever this is, we will find a solution, yes?"

"Always", Dean said, while Sam nodded at them both.

Not ready to deal with how what he'd said didn't quite fit with what he felt deep down Castiel brushed past them. Walking through the long hallway he aimed for the kitchen, not by choice but on an instinct more bound to the feline side in him rather than the angel he was born as. His core being had decided that he needed a break, one he wouldn't take while fully himself. It too saw that his friends did as well, and so it latched onto the spell, firm.

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Two sips into his milk Castiel blinked once more over his strange behaviour. He didn't drink, had never needed to or felt like it. More feline instincts? Trying another sip, he moaned out his pleasure over how he could taste it as something more than its scientific parts. Cool, delicious and rich it filled his mouth until he swallowed it down, almost in greedy thirst. It was rather satisfying a sensation, but also a strange one. Trying it again he cherished the unique experience for what it was, or what he believed it would be, a one off… at least until they returned him to his old self.

"Milk? Really?" Again, he was no longer alone. Castiel turned towards Dean, who stood nailed to the floor in bewilderment. The hunter recovered himself, walked on and strode past him to grab a beer from the fridge. Uncapping the bottle, he faced him, a twinkle of humour in his eyes, before his face sobered up into a frown of concern. "Since when? Wait, don't tell me, it is cat-you."

Castiel shrugged, feeling even more lost than his friend did. "Apparently so."

Downing what seemed to Castiel like half the bottle Dean stared at him, but also not quite, his thoughts no doubt drifting back to the hunt. "I should have reacted faster, but the witch had us all fooled. I should have trusted in my gut instinct. Her kind are nothing but trouble, so shoot first and ask questions later, which would have saved us a world of trouble. White magic my ass. She wanted to hurt Sam, liked it even."

"Dean..." Castiel waved the guilt away. "It wasn't our fault that other men have wronged her out of fear of her powers. She was wary even before knowing what we were. Growing up an orphan, how was she to know that her gift also entailed a curse? No one had told her that her love for another would slowly drain the life out of them and kill them if she didn't let them go."

"But Sam? He was no threat to her, but she lured him in like a spider does a fly."

"She must have sensed that he's a hunter. Dean, she was the opposite of Sam and you. The one hunted down and feared. Even when her intentions were good to begin with the loss of her fiancée pushed her over the edge. She wasn't to know that Sam was truthful when he offered to help her, and so she only had her instincts to go on. Well, and they can be quite a force as I'm beginning to see." Castiel set his now emptied glass down on the kitchen counter with a wry smile.

Not missing a beat Dean grinned at his final point. Sobering up he offered, "Blood is even stronger a force. It was either Sam or her, and that was no choice for me."

Castiel reached out to rest his hand on Dean's shoulder for support. "I was but a second behind you."

"Which is why you got hit by her spell, not me."

"I'd do it again." He set Dean free with a wry smile. "Even when it means drinking milk."

To his amusement and pride Dean grinned at his attempted joke. "It's the ears and tail, buddy. They are what creeps me out more. Speaking of witches and spells... Sam has gone up to the car to check for hex bags. Have you done the same with your clothes?"

Shaking his head in denial Castiel felt down his trouser pockets. Coming up empty he said, "Nothing, but that is good thinking." He turned, ready to help Sam, but drawing short when the hunter's footsteps came over from somewhere down the hall. Waiting for his arrival he pointed at the opened door. "Doesn't sound promising."

"What?!"

Castiel smiled to himself at the confusion in his voice. "When Sam is tired, he drags his feet a little. I can hear it from here. There's no bounce to his step." Letting the smile slip onto his face he shrugged. "Cat ears, though odd, they do have a benefit."

Before Dean could express his stunned realisation, Sam walked inside to pause but a few feet beyond the threshold. "Nothing but cat hairs", he teased. He smiled when Castiel did and walked over to the kitchen table to unburden his arm from the blood and hair stained trench coat.

"Not on the back seat too? My poor Baby."

Sam shrugged while Dean huffed at his answer, drawing a grin from his brother in turn. Looking between them Castiel too shrugged. What could he say? It wasn't his fault, even when it were the hairs he had shed. Indifferent to the car his attention drifted away to the milk carton he'd left standing on the counter. He wanted to drink more... and on that instinct he grabbed his glass to refill it and walk out of the kitchen with his price in hand.

Unseen to him two sets of eyes observed his far from usual behaviour with wide eyed amusement. His ears though caught on to their exasperated laughter, which followed him out. "Did he just..." Dean didn't finish his confused suggestion.

"Up and leave us with his mess, like an Angel, but with cat behaviour."

"What if he slips further into this spell? We have to watch out for him." Dean groaned in his annoyance of what it meant for the night ahead, "Great..."

"Do you think he's going to change all the way?"

"Who knows, Sammy. Maybe you get to have a pet after all."

"Not funny."

"No." Dean sounded tired, almost deflated even.

As their conversation ended Castiel bailed. It was too much to face their concerns along with his own. He _had_ to believe in his angelic powers, that his grace continued to keep him safe. Either that or give in to this magic, which he still felt curl into his vessel too. Most odd... the feline in him didn't feel like a threatening force at all. How come?

Seeking out his answers Castiel turned to the war room to read and later fall asleep with his body doubled over in a chair and his head on the opened pages of the book he'd laid out on the table. No one mentioned it how he sensed that either Sam or Dean were sitting by his side through the night. By morning Castiel emptied a second carton of milk into his coffee in an attempt to kick start the research mission of which he'd become the unwanted focus.

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

A day and night had passed by, but the growing pile of books collected in the war room had gotten them nowhere so far. Pages on end about angel lore, witchcraft, white magic and transformation spells. So many variations could be made, but not one matched his unique situation or even the remotest solution for it. To his frustrated humour Castiel had to accept that he was most likely the first angel alive, since humanity began to write, to have been struck down by the magic of mortals. Oh, well, at least his body had shifted no further than it had done.

How the spell worked? They didn't know yet. His believe that angel grace should be more powerful than magic got confirmed by one or more books. It had protected him. Had it not done so he would have shifted into a cat from head to toe. After reading his findings out loud Castiel had smirked at Dean, even when he felt a sharp pang of worry for what it meant about his powers and the damaged wings on his back. What if they would never heal to their former glory?

Not for the first time since his resurrection as an angel did he feel some relief over how Sam and Dean, being human, could not see his full form, not without going blind. For thousands of years his wings had been beautiful, but no longer. Now they were brittle, charred, torn and useless. Perhaps the loss of flight was what he'd deserved for all the wrongs he'd done? Heaven had lost so many of his brothers and sisters… and he had failed to protect them, made the wrong choices, for which he paid the price since. Justice was something he understood. And so, Castiel carried his burden alone, because in his eyes Sam and Dean had suffered enough to protect and save others, the world even.

"You're going soft on us", Dean had stated over breakfast this morning, his voice soft and not uncaring. He hadn't said it to hurt him. No, Castiel knew him long enough to see the honest concern and recognize it as such. For everything he couldn't say his loss of power was still showing itself. Dean had not asked him why he never flew anymore, not out right. One comment and an unchallenged, evasive answer was how far their conversation had stretched.

Today too he'd not felt able to answer Dean. Instead he had waved it off, finished his tuna sandwich and set aside his emptied plate to aim for the archive full of hunter's books. But rather than following through on joining the brothers Castiel gave in to his impulsive need to be by himself, and so he headed the other way from the library to curl up onto his bed for a session of private research and a nap in between books.

Hours since, and Castiel still hadn't shaken off how his secret was maybe not so hidden anymore. But if he was 'going soft' then why was the process still ongoing? Twirling his latest lost feather between his fingers to mourn it, he cast aside the old journal filled with Enochian script. Maybe he had to stop sulking? Shake off his grief and aim towards a solution. For as long as he could fight he would, because he was a soldier, even if not for heaven, and an angel too. The Winchesters needed him to be the best he could be and for that he needed answers, ones not found in this book either.

Reappearing in time for lunch Castiel found the brothers in the war room, where he had left them, eating in companionable silence, with the odd remark of conversation between them. The smell of something sweet tempted him to walk on a little faster. He passed by on Sam, and his plate of salad, to sit down next to Dean. "Hey, Cas." Ignoring the latter's greeting he eyed the cream covered pie the elder brother had chosen for his lunch snack. Unable to rein in his feline instincts he dipped a finger in the thick cream top layer to lick it off with a sigh of happiness.

"What the…" Dean protested at once.

With a shrug over the indignant reaction called out around a mouth full Castiel aimed for another dip and lick, because his dignity be damned… that rich cream tasted far better than anything he'd ever eaten during his short stint as a human. Angels didn't need to eat, and even when they did the experience was limited to the structure of molecules rather than taste. Of course cats could eat, smell and taste food. They even needed it to live, to which his growling stomach attested, because it had already forgotten breakfast…

Still stunned and more than pleased by the rediscovery of taste Castiel wished to enjoy it for as long as he had to live in this new form. Smiling like the cat that had stolen the cream, which he supposed was almost too true, Castiel aimed for another dose of the sugary delight. To drive his point home to Dean he rested the tip of his long-haired tail in between them on the table. "Dean", he offered his belated greeting. "Sam."

"Huh. Go on then…" Grinning, Dean pushed his plate out a little to share. "Hell, it gives me an excuse to leave the books. More pie it is. But you better get your ass back to work after lunch, buddy." He shrugged to show that while he was unsure about how to cope with the behavioural changes in Castiel he was not going to hold any against him, not for long anyhow… even when he hated each little black hair shed around the bunker.

And so, in turn Castiel ignored the pointed way Dean picked up and cast away one of said hairs from the edge of his plate with a shrug. Rather than indulge his friend with banter he turned his full attention onto the pie, using the spoon Sam handed over to him. In but a few minutes the slice of pie was gone… as was Dean, who walked out of the door after lunch to drive off into the nearby town of Lebanon, Kansas. Castiel didn't blame him that he did so with a smile, happy to be allowed a break without complaint. Even on the best of days Dean and research made for an ill match of impatience.

With his earlier sombre mood lifted from him as well Castiel smiled to himself. Where he was still seated across from Sam an idea was brewing in his mind, one he hoped that he could tempt his friend with. "I am well rested and ready to head into the books for now, but can we move this? I can fit in my tail better on the sofa in the lounge room. We'll go twice as fast if we can both read, yes?"

"Sure. Grab your books and I will bring mine." Sam shrugged, ready to offer it a try when despite of his silent aura he seemed to prefer company over being alone. Or maybe more than it was about him Sam too felt more at peace in the newly decorated lounge they had set up in a room but two doors down from the war room. Only a third the size of the war room at best it offered a far more private setting; one added on with a set of soft sofas, a table and of course walls filled with more books. These shelves though were interspersed with novels, magazines and seemingly random objects, which had nothing to do with hunting. Castiel had observed how the brothers' collection of personal items had grown into something more than a quick pack into one bag per person. It spoke of home more than they did for themselves, but this too was slowly changing.

Somehow, now more so than before the fateful hunt, Castiel too felt the peace of the room and how it embodied the Winchester family rather than what they did. Dropping the books he had carried inside on the salon table, he curled down on the sofa next to Sam, his legs underneath him and his tail hanging over the pillow on his other side. He pulled an old journal in his lap, opened it and set out to work. Comfortable at last in this far better position he went back to his research.

But as his mind sunk deeper into the material his tail refused to stay put. Unseen to him it curled out over Sam's lap in a search of comfort. Only when straying fingers played with the long hairs of it did he feel more than see how they connected in the comfortable silence of their downtime. Soothed by the soft strokes he continued reading, until his shortened attention span needed a break, one he knew Sam would never take.

Too lazy and comfortable to walk out for a nap Castiel wasted no more thoughts on his options than needed. Slipping down he curled up sideways on the sofa and with his head on Sam's nearest, jeans covered thigh. Narrowed green eyes peered down at him, momentarily confused… then more open, amused even in his observation of him. "Cas?"

Castiel shrugged, looking up at Sam with a wry smile. "I am not sure if I am insulted by the non-angel half of me or not. It sleeps, it eats… needs the bathroom", he shuddered at the last bit. Now there was something he doubted he could get used to. "More so even than you do. It's humiliating, but also…"

"What?"

At the brush of a hand, which wrapped into his hair, Castiel grinned. "Some parts are not unpleasant."

"I've noticed." Even as Sam leaned back to read on his fingers curled into his hair in between the large, cat ears which found an immediate joy from his touch. Not by half as absent-minded as before Sam scratched his fingers over his head, fur and ears, until after a while he too gave in to the peaceful calm of simply being. The book on white magic soon slid forgotten to the floor, falling shut on impact with the rug covered floor.

Closing his eyes Castiel slipped into a state between slumber and joy, one so comfortable that he wanted for the moment to last. For Sam to maybe never find a cure and give up trying. To be more in tune with the hunter he cared for… by far more even than he'd so far admitted to himself over the fear that he wasn't worthy of Sam's affection, if he even returned it. But now, here the two of them were, forming a connection by touch rather than talking and it felt beyond perfect to him. The purr of his unexpected, but more than welcome contentment began deep in his celestial being. Everything which had weighted Castiel down fell away from him. Though he didn't quite pick up on it himself, his sense of peace and belonging resonated into Sam, where it settled too.

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Hey, are you still awake?"

The thigh under his head moved while the fingers in his fur stilled. Castiel turned his head to look up at Sam, blinking in an effort to shake himself from slumber and back to reality. Half of him wanted to protest at the pause, while his more usual angel thoughts settled on how odd it felt to have slept at all. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he realised how his fingers had curled themselves into Sam's lower side, almost clinging onto his flannel shirt and the skin underneath it for dear life. The feline in him felt more than comfortable where he was. It didn't care about personal space or how it betrayed what Castiel felt for Sam deep down…

But where he had tensed up, posed to break free, Sam pinned him down with his intent gaze and the firm press of his hand between his cat ears. "I don't know why I didn't see this before, but we're looking at this from a wrong angle."

Castiel tilted his head, waiting for Sam to finish his train of thought.

"This isn't a curse, not as us hunters see it. She doesn't want her spell to harm you or to change you into a creature so far removed from yourself that we can't learn her lesson. She wants us to experience her magic through you. To punish a hunter by letting him experience what she went through… being hunted, and killed for her powers, as she saw it." A flash of pain crossed his face at the memory of how their mission had ended. Sam though hid it behind a wry smile. "Imagine it, someone like Dean, her intended target, being made into a being to serve their kind. To feel an undeniable attraction to magic and those who wield it. To even be able to use it for himself to shift into a creature of his choice and back again to human form, depending on his mood."

"Like a familiar?" Castiel realised out loud.

"That's what I am thinking." As if afraid to set him free still the fingers in his hair curled in a little deeper, grazing over his scalp in a delightful brush of pleasure.

Unable to help himself Castiel leaned into the touch, smiling to himself. If Sam was right, and he often was when it came to magic and lore, then he should feel a powerful urge to leave. His by the witch imposed needs would drive him to seek someone to protect and serve… no, to bond with even, since a familiar chose his or her witch companion for life. Soulmates of a kind, as Castiel believed. But for all the unease he felt in the essence of his being it had nothing to do with an instinct to leave, but everything with his deepest desire to stay and give in to love. What he wanted was not far away at all. His only restraint came from within himself, his doubts and pain that his feelings for a mortal soul could never be returned were too strong to ignore. Sam was so much more worth than he was… and he deserved better than a broken angel, one who had so far not even fought off some forsaken spell.

Sighing with regret Castiel pulled himself away from Sam to sit up. "But I got in her way instead. My powers and hers, they are in conflict and I'm… left in this halfway mess."

"Maybe." Sam leaned forwards to reach out his palm to lay it on top the pile of books they'd gathered on the salon table. "Maybe not. These gave us no answers, but that doesn't mean that there isn't one waiting for us in another book."

The honest support he saw and heard in Sam nudged on his sense of self. "More research it is", Castiel said. Though with each next cat nap he felt stronger he could also feel how firm the imbalance inside of his vessel had become. His feline needs, or rather familiar instincts, needed to be heard. Dare he listen to them, or should he fight? His grace had made its choice. For Sam, and Dean too, he would fight. They were why he was staying on Earth, why his path had led him to here… where he felt wanted, a part of something maybe larger even than his absent father, than God.

To his joy Sam moved his hand to reach out to his tail. As he played with the furred end of it, he grinned, a twinkle of humour in his eyes. "So, a cat, huh?"

Unsure of how to react to the fondness in his voice Castiel shrugged. Something deep inside of his mind had a sense of irony. Maybe it knew how taken Sam seemed to be with this shape? Or had it sensed that he needed the rest and freedom it gave him? Being an angel soldier, he'd never felt so mischievous before. Had not taken such delight from simple touch and closeness. Even now he was more than happy to curl his tail around Sam's wrist… an instinct he didn't fight, because they both seemed to need the contact.

Sam moved away first. "I don't like the idea, but maybe another familiar would be able to tell us how the shifting works? Of course, where there is one…"

"There is a witch too", Castiel finished with a shudder of unpleasant fears. He didn't want to risk more trouble, not when they could so easily strike at those he cared for and make matters worse. "It is unsafe to go there, and I see no reason to. Sam, I am not going anywhere. My choice has always been you."

"Me?" Sam stared at him in shocked confusion.

"_And_ Dean", Castiel blurted out to hide his full truth, his undeniable attraction, which was growing firmer with each day. Was it the spell? Afraid of how maybe Sam only felt drawn in by him because of it he pulled away to grab some of the books and rise from the coach. "Your hunt. To fight by your side. I am not going out there to search for another companion, a witch."

"How can you be sure?"

Walking off towards the library Castiel turned to face Sam from the threshold. "Instinct."

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

Spurred on by the change of angle on his problem Castiel searched the shelves in the archives. No more than a few feet away from him Sam too was browsing through another long shelf of books. They needed few words in between to avoid bumping into each other. Time and again though Castiel felt the instinct to draw nearer to the hunter pull on him, reminding him further of what he'd become and how spot on Sam had been in the lounge to call their attention to it. Why indeed had they not caught it before?

Not sure if he was willing to explore reason, at least not when it came to his feelings for Sam, Castiel blew the dust off another book. Opening it he squinted at the handwriting to unravel the ancient curls made in ink into words he could understand. The old journal described in detail a few rituals, some sensual in nature and others dark, dangerous even. Drawn into the stories where they mentioned an angel presence Castiel fell silent, only half aware of how Sam shared his thirst for knowledge and wonder.

In silence he set the journal aside. While an interesting read it had not helped to ease his inner unrest, and the way his feline ears stretched out his hearing to seek a distraction. Not yet! He wanted answers. Had to become unstuck at least, and not be held hostage by the battle which raged on unseen to others within his vessel. Was it even possible for his grace and the dose of mortal magic to get along? Or was it to rip him apart in the long run? Bending down he picked up the loose page, which had dropped from the book.

"Hang on…" Sam interrupted his sober musings. "I think… yeah, I've got something here. Look!" He rushed to the desk nearby, dropped down the open book and pointed with his index finger at the page his eyes had been glued on but a second ago. Now the green irises burned bright with intent and the joy of what may be a win.

Castiel hurried over to his side to share in his find. From the page a list of ingredients stared back at him, each type machine written letter sharp and simple in its instruction. "A potion?"

"One said to purify angel grace." Wide-eyed in now shared hope Castiel looked at Sam, who in turn nodded to him. "It might chase the magic out… if we can find the ingredients that is. Let's see how many we've got." He lifted the open book back into his hands and walked out of the library, no doubt aiming for the war room which could hold everything they needed.

Following Sam almost on his heals Castiel half ran after him. As they rushed into the impressive centre of the bunker Dean almost bumped into him. "Whoa. What's up with the hurry? I was on my way to find you."

"You have." Undeterred Sam brushed past his brother. "Dean. This is it."

"What? You can turn _Cat_stiel here back into himself?"

Castiel frowned at the abuse of his name while Sam snorted at the deliberate slip he'd made with a too obvious look of 'see how witty I am'. Dean had an odd sense of humour, no change there.

"Maybe. Fingers crossed." Sam answered the question without pause.

As ever too Dean was quick to move into action. "Tell us what we need. Cas and I will collect. You cut, grind and stir everything together… do your magic." He scrunched up his nose in disgust when Sam instructed him at once to fetch a bottle of whiskey. "Come on, it's for drinking, not potions." Despite his protest Dean wasted no time on getting what was needed.

Stumped for a second time in but one breath Castiel considered the eerie truth behind the initial comment from Dean. When it came down to it Sam indeed had a way with spells, potions and rituals which seemed uncomfortably close to witchcraft. Was that what the familiar in him could sense too? Why it did not fight the feelings his angel half had for Sam? Imbalance in power, but agreement within his core too…

"… and an angel feather. Cas?" Sam snapped his attention back to the potion at hand.

Somehow he had blinked and missed how Sam had called out the full list of ingredients. Many of which lay gathered around him in a strange collection of herbs and mushrooms, bracketed by the opened bottle of whiskey and a sharp knife. "I'm sorry, what?"

Dean now too looked at him from across the large table. Where he remained silent in his stern observation of him though Sam shared a wry smile before he repeated his now more hesitant request. "It needs a feather from an angel wing, yours. Do you… if you can spare one. Well, it won't work without and I know you want it to…"

"Ah. Of course…" Pushing down the rush of grief he felt at even the idea of another lost feather Castiel knew he couldn't afford to dwell on it. Sam wasn't asking lightly. Without it he stood no chance at coming unstuck, and so it wasn't a choice but a necessity. What was one more sacrifice? But as he reached out to his wing to pull out a feather Castiel winced, and not alone in pain. The long feather felt so fragile in his hand… almost as if it could break apart in mere mortal hands. Had it enough power?

"Here", he handed it over to Sam with a surge of unease in his mind. Castiel worried that maybe it wouldn't work, and he'd be forever fated to walk the Earth, tainted by its mortal powers and souls, unable to ever fly again.

"I can't see it." Sam shrugged, apologetic.

Castiel called on his grace to reveal the price lying on his hand. "You can now."

"Thank you." With an awed smile Sam accepted the offer, his fingers brushing over the palm of his hand with the same tenderness he used to lift it up and drop it into his bowl. "It seems such a shame to break it." He sounded wistful almost.

Castiel rested his hand on his nearest shoulder. "Not if it works." Even as he spoke, he shrugged at Dean, who looked between them with narrowed eyes over what he still could not see. Castiel didn't mean to shut his best friend out… but he had to, for it was private at best to show another being his wings. It was a privilege not suited for humans.

Facing Sam once more their eyes met, but Castiel faltered at the honest care. Instead of watching him break the feather into smaller pieces he asked, "What else do you need?"

Not too surprising Sam lifted the waiting blade from the table. In one fluid and firm slice he cut open his left palm. "My blood." He barely flinched at the self-inflicted wound. Instead he turned his bleeding hand into a vertical position to let thick, dark red drops of blood fall onto the feather and other ingredients in the bowl. "Holy water… and a glass."

He wrapped his dark blue handkerchief around the cut to close it, not bothering to ask Castiel for what he could give with a brush of his grace. Castiel narrowed his eyes. It was far too typical for Sam to brave the pain and move on to help others rather than himself. Well, too bad, he wasn't having any of it. Castiel brushed his hand on the hunter's nearest shoulder to reach out his grace and seal the wound closed as if it had never been there. Though Sam didn't say it Castiel smiled when he let the makeshift bandage drop with a small nod of quiet acceptance and friendship.

While Sam began to grind everything into a pulp Dean watched from across the table, arms folded. Castiel couldn't look at either one of them. Guilt gnawed at him. Their hope was so high, not for themselves, but for him. He, who couldn't find the words to admit to his flaws and what he hid from them to keep the pain to himself so that they would not mourn for his losses too, or worse feel responsible somehow. More solemn than them he watched as his feather broke further until it too became one with the pulp. Everything in him tensed further when Sam added the holy water and the mixture began to sizzle, louder and louder, until in a flash it drew to a halt. By the time Sam poured it into a glass it cleared up into a deep red potion.

"Dude…" Dean started, but Sam held up his hand to say, "It's Cas' choice."

Castiel looked between them. One nod and he accepted the offered glass with a wry smile meant for the two men who had gotten him this far despite their concerns of whether it was safe for him to push on through. "We won't know until I try." He raised his glass and downed the awful tasting concoction in one go…

Nothing but pain! He couldn't even feel the slightest hint of healing. All the potion did was upset his vessel, ruffle his damaged feathers and ignite his grace into a barely controllable rage. Castiel felt like he could explode at any moment. Flames, heat and nothing but agony. He cried out, almost tearing his true and far too powerful voice through his vessel… but not when the last of his wits reminded him of those he cared for and how fragile they were. If he let go, then Sam and Dean were dead. "No!" He denied his pain the wanted out, trapping it inside. His energy sparked one more time, crashing the nearest light bulbs around him. Too much!

"No", he whimpered when the same magical rush pulled his essence to a full stop. About to collapse in on himself Castiel shook from his prideful efforts to stand on his own two feet again. Dean and Sam were with him still. He could smell their fears, feel their front of shared support. Their hands and fingers clung to his vessel in an offer of strength and courage, trying to keep him from falling into a writhing heap of pain. If he concentrated, he could almost see them. Their eyes in turn were narrowed in their worried observation of what they perceived of his for naught suffering. "Cas? What's happening… are you…"

"It didn't work", he mumbled. "Please, let me go." Driven by the raw pain in his hurting vessel and the intruding instinct he had failed to shake off Castiel broke free from their firm grip. The feline half of him hissed in agony, but he didn't realise it. All he knew was the despair of his failure… how his shattered hope broke apart his resolve to stay strong for those he cared for. He _had_ to be alone, and so he ran off, half blinded and deafened by the battling forces inside of him.

\- 0 - 0 - 0 –


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three **

Unsure of how long it had been since he'd shut himself inside his bedroom Castiel sat up from where he'd curled in around himself on his bed. A final shiver wrecked through his vessel. The pain though had at last subsided. The fire too had died, making place for a cold sensation he didn't care much for. On automatic he wrapped his wings tighter against his back and further around himself to warm his flesh. But even as their comfort seeped into him, he stared in pain at the stray, long feather which fell into his lap. How many more was he to lose?

More on habit than anything he bent down to reach under his bed. In a stiff move he retrieved the dull grey archive box. Every muscle in his vessel ached, and so he struggled with the invisibly warded clasps which held it shut to anyone but him. At last they gave way. Focussed in his private moment Castiel planted the box in his lap and he opened the lid to reveal the size of his loss. Feathers in all sizes filled it up to halfway. Castiel had not wanted for anyone but him to touch them. They too used to hold power within… but, as he knew now, not anymore. Picking up his most recent loss he set out to add it onto the pile…

"Is it one of yours too?"

Though Sam had spoken in but a soft voice of concern Castiel startled at the sound. Half of him curled his tail and arched his back, but at the sight of upset eyes filled with pain on his behalf he was quick to rein in the unwanted, feline instinct. "It is", he admitted. "They all are."

"I see." Sam perched down on his left side, almost too close for comfort and yet far from it, because Castiel welcomed the body heat and musky scent of him regardless of his emotions. Again the hunter moved so quiet that he only noticed he had when the warm support of his long fingers seeped into the ones of his vessel. Sam had rested his palm over the hand which he had used to steady the box on his lap. "How can I?"

"Because I've shown you one. Sam… I…"

"I think we knew, but to see it with my own eyes is something else." He picked up the feather Castiel had dropped when he'd gotten startled by his presence. With an almost reverent move he lowered it onto its brethren. "I am sorry, Cas. I know what it's like to be damaged. To feel like you're held together, but only just."

"Sam…" Castiel wanted to deny it, convince Sam of his worth and of how much brighter than most humans his soul lit up the world. That even though his blood was tainted by the darkness of demons no one fought harder to be his best self. Sam had saved the world… would again in a heartbeat too. None were stronger, more selfless or more beautiful to Castiel than Sam. Not even Dean, who came close enough to earn his utmost respect, which reached far beyond the once ordered assignment. Both had shown him the best of humanity, but Sam had also taught him of intimacy, of hugs and emotions. Closing his mouth, he realised that whatever he would say it would never convince the soul who sometimes was his own worst enemy.

As if Sam had known what had been on his mind, he shook his head. "Don't…"

With a swift flick of his wrist Castiel closed the lid on his box. Setting it aside on the bedside table he looked at Sam. Tears brimmed on the edge of green eyes filled with pain and worry, not for their owner but for him. In the absence of words, for both of them, Castiel offered him a small smile. "Stay?" He knew now it had been a mistake to run out on Sam… because he felt warmer and safer in his presence, always had done somehow, even when they had rushed towards trouble to rescue innocents. With Sam near his suffering seemed worth it, and more.

"Sure." Sam nodded, head bowed and hair falling into his face to hide a blush. All the same he tossed aside his boots and he smiled when Castiel too ditched his shoes. Reaching out he helped him get rid of his suit jacket and hang it out over the chair, which also held on to his trench coat. Green eyes squinted at perceived motion on his back, but Sam didn't speak of his thoughts on why he could almost see his wings, but not.

Castiel in turn knew that what Sam could not quite see yet needed his final permission. For that which it entailed, full trust and the bond of lovers, he wasn't quite ready, and he knew from how careful Sam moved around him that he wasn't either. This closeness was still too fresh…

In silence they laid down onto the bed together, on top of the covers and on their sides. Castiel let out a soft sigh of pleasure when Sam spooned his larger body around his vessel from behind. When his arm too wrapped around him, tight and yet comfortable, he curled his tail up next to it… happy when Sam took it for the invitation it was, to pet it.

"Cas… why did you choose me?" Sam let out a tremor of pain, one full of self-doubt and the ever-present lack of believe in that he was anything but a no-good mess of a human being. "The ones who did before you they're… dead. I bring only darkness to others. You shouldn't want me. What if I lose you too?"

"I've been around for so long, but that wasn't living. This life here with you is. Some things are but what they are. I didn't understand before how close love and pain truly are. That what I feel for you goes beyond logic. You keep me here, Sam. Not because of magic and not for reasons that would have made sense to the angel soldier I used to be."

"Are you sure that it isn't the spell? Your needs as a familiar talking?"

Castiel turned his head to face Sam. "Our friendship has never needed, nor will it ever need magic to be what it is. It means what we want it to, nothing more. Sam, I don't know about tomorrow any more than you do, but that chest full of feathers reminds me of how change can't be stopped. I admit that I fled because I was afraid. But now? I refuse to look back at my regrets and not move on from there. So, be here with me? That's all I am asking for tonight."

Sorrow turned to a look of fondness and understanding. "It's yours", Sam made his choice with a wry smile. "I would be a fool to deny you."

"You're never that."

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

For all his thousands of years Castiel had never woken up to such a peaceful sensation of being. Some time in the night he had rolled onto his other side. It meant that the first thing he opened his eyes to was the sight of Sam, lying close to him in a blissful state of unawareness. From the mess of hair to closed eyelids and slightly parted lips Castiel couldn't get enough of his observation of the hunter in rest. More so than his pleasing features it was the aura of his bright and for once utterly unguarded soul which left Castiel feeling awed.

Strange enough he felt lighter than he'd done in a long time. His wings seemed to hurt less, and his grace had somehow settled into a slumber of sorts inside of his vessel. No longer did it itch as if it wanted to scratch a way out of the confined space it had perceived ever since that blasted spell had hit him. The enforced magic inside of him too didn't prod for attention. Maybe it was a truce… or he had found his inner peace in sleep, or was that Sam?

Smiling to himself he listened to the soft, unintelligible mumbles from Sam. "Morning", at last he could make one out into a word. "Cas…" Sam opened his eyes, which shot wide in shock almost at once. "Your cat ears. They're gone."

"What?" Castiel reached out to feel for himself. Not meeting with any sign of the pointed, furred hearing appendages he'd become used to without knowing, or wanting to, he stared back at Sam. Somehow he felt a sense of loss, but at the same time he smiled his relief over how the potion had an effect after all. Maybe he could be himself again? "That's good."

"Yeah." Sam sounded absent-minded as he reached out to feel for the missing ears too.

At his touch, now familiar and pleasant to Castiel, he closed his eyes. Dropping his hand away from his head he blinked when at that same time he could feel the not so new sensation return. With nothing more than a thought his cat ears poked up to reduce him back to a purring mess of feline behaviour. "Oh… that's unfair, but don't stop."

"Oops." His gasp of pleasure met with a grin. Sam didn't stop teasing his ears though, and for that he was more than glad. "Do you think, that these forces beyond our control, magic and fate or whatever, are trying to tell us something?"

Unable to not fall into the depth of his gaze Castiel mumbled, "I do." Nothing in him could fight it anymore. What little he had to offer to the man he loved he couldn't keep it contained. Sam had become both his weakness and his strength. Moving to close the small distance between them he kissed Sam soft on the lips to express what he couldn't find the words for. "And I am done not listening."

"As am I." Sam breathed softly before he parted his lips to let Castiel inside while he answered the kiss in kind. Tender and teasing their tongues met. All thought ceased to a halt, reducing to one alone, _"At last."_

Eager to remain close Castiel reached out a tentative hand to sneak it in under flannel and the t-shirt Sam was wearing. Meeting with the warm skin of his abdomen he splayed out his fingers in his need for nothing more than contact. "Sam", he moaned before going in for another kiss of pure delight. All the words he'd been unable to speak he conveyed with his tongue and lips in the far more enjoyable way than most.

Fingers wrapped around his neck in an attempt to pull him even closer, not that there was much space left. Castiel whimpered in his pleasure of how Sam brushed his leg in between his. The almost possessive move of want and longing rendered him breathless. As if sensing his vessel's need to breathe Sam came up for air, only to tease the shell of his human ear with his tongue.

Whimpering at the shiver of pleasure it sent into him Castiel sneaked his hand further over half hidden skin until his fingers could dig in just above the swell of Sam's jeans covered ass. The last bit of air between them faded as he pulled their hips together. Desperate to have Sam close he kissed him again, hard, almost demanding and yet tender when he slipped his tongue inside for another taste. Every sense of him narrowed in on how Sam bit on his lower lip before he rolled on top of him, all but melting their bodies together.

Never had Castiel felt this whole. His vessel sung with pleasure… and his grace rejoiced with a spark of excitement, which seemed to grow stronger with every kiss Sam was giving him. The tenderness of the moment stretched until he purred with it. Maybe it wasn't so wrong to not be a full angel anymore? His more human tendencies had brought him here to where he at last was feeling happy again.

\- 0 - 0 - 0 -

An abrupt, intrusive rush of cool air combined with a flash of light coming in from the hallway ripped into the moment. "Cas… have you seen Sam? There's a new case in Ohio and…" The half-shadowed presence of Dean froze in the doorway. Hand still on the handle of the opened door and his eyes widened in shock, one quickly brushed aside. In the next breath Dean unfroze to grin and roll his eyes at what he saw. "Never mind."

Mid-kiss Castiel parted from Sam, but not for more than just their lips, enough to be able to turn his head and look at Dean. Though he was sad for how his pleasure had come to an end he could also see that the hunter wasn't to blame. Maybe they should have locked the door… but then the morning had come as such an unexpected gift to them that he was glad for all he'd received from Sam so far. Each kiss he already cherished. Castiel was so happy in fact that he refused to be upset or even the slightest touch angered over how it had come to an end. Instead he saw the humour in how Dean stood staring at them, confused and yet amused too. Had he been aware of their attraction?

Recovering before Sam could find his breath or wits again Castiel shrugged. "The other day you did say we had to get a room, so we did."

Silence stretched on for longer than he had thought. Dean, not often lost for words, blinked at him, speechless. In his next breath he started to laugh… followed by Sam, who shook his head at him in fondness. Sobering up first Dean recovered enough to be his usual self. Mock stern he joked, "_Now_ he listens. Cats, nothing but trouble."

Smiling to himself Castiel thought of hiding his cat ears and tail. A rush of satisfaction and relief washed over him when they indeed retreated into the magic he had not shaken, but which had calmed down into his returned inner balance. Though he wasn't restored as such he could feel how his angelic powers felt no longer threatened by the foreign force of magic and how they even reacted more like their usual selves. His feathers too felt less pained… and maybe it was a sign for good. More optimistic than he'd been in a long time he extended his smile to his vessel. "What of angels?" He sat up to move away from Sam and face Dean more like an equal.

In answer Dean blinked at the change in him. "Huh. So what? The potion failed, but worked?"

"In part at least. I am uncertain if I will be again what I was." Castiel offered the only truth he had. Pushing himself up he offered Sam a parting brush with his hand over his side. The moment was gone, but he wanted him to know that they'd create another… one with the door locked perhaps, if Sam wished for it too. The answering small smile and nod of promise though told him enough. They fast sent a shiver of anticipation into his being, but he pushed it down before it could show. To hide his all too human arousal from Dean he walked over to the chair to put on his suit jacket and coat. "When do we leave?"

"Leave?" At his impatient roll of his eyes Dean brushed a hand to his hair, unsure of how to voice his doubt at first. "Thing is, it's nothing big. A nest of vampires probably. Sammy and I can handle it."

"I am sure you can." Castiel shrugged to show that he had taken no offence in the offer of doubt and concern. "But feline tendencies or not, I am still me. These monsters won't wait for any hunter to be healed or for him to be himself again. Let me help."

Dean shared a look with Sam, who had sat up to straighten his clothes with a nod of agreement. "Are you sure?"

"I am", Castiel smiled at how he spoke at the same time Sam said, "Dean, we need him."

Holding up both his arms and hand to the air in mock surrender Dean shook his head. "Is this how's it going to be with you two?"

"Only when you are wrong", Sam grinned, to which Castiel agreed with a smile.

"Great." Dean complained, but even as he did, and he watched Sam get up from the bed, he winked to his younger brother to take off the sting.

Confused by their near private exchange Castiel looked between them, trying to understand the nuances in what they weren't saying. After a lifetime as brothers they sometimes had a language of their own, one no one else seemed to be in tune to. Only when Dean nodded at him too did he get the jest of their wordless conversation. Acceptance lay behind his gruff temper of mocking. The one thing that was important to Dean was for his brother to be happy, but speaking of emotions was not within his grasp… and so he voiced them in the Winchester way.

"Let me go grab my things. Meet me at the car five." As abrupt as Dean had entered his bedroom, he left it too.

Castiel stared at the still open door, lost and yet smiling at the familiarity. Normal had returned, or at least their version of it… and with one exception. From behind Sam reminded him of what they'd began last night, by wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. At once Castiel leaned into his larger body with a sigh of pleasure. "Sam…"

Warm lips pressed a kiss against the sensitive skin behind his ear in a fleeting brush of sensations, which stirred up his longing. "Later, if you still want me", Sam promised.

"Always." Reaching out behind him he found Sam's side. In a firm gesture of affirmation, he dug his fingers into clothes and skin alike. Castiel knew that words would never be able to convince Sam of his worth. Only action could explain how devoted he felt, had done even when he'd been nothing but a tool of heaven told to fear Sam. Turning around he kissed Sam on the lips, deep and passionate to steal his breath. "I'd show you, but…"

"The case." Sam blinked at him, panting over the kiss.

Castiel picked up his angel blade with a wry smile. "Monsters have no regard for timing."

"No, they don't."

"Hey. What's keeping you?!" Dean's voice boomed out from the hallway.

Sam rolled his eyes, brushed past him with a grin. "Keep your shirt on!"

"Oh please. I am not the one who can't keep his hands off a certain angel."

"Ha! You're just missing the action…"

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

As the brothers strode off, side by side and nudging each other with both words and gestures Castiel followed them out to the car. Though for appearances he rolled his eyes, grumbling over their childish behaviour as he took the back seat, he embraced how they had kept him anchored to himself. How for days they'd worried and fought for him in their unique ways. Had they won this battle? He liked to think that Sam's blood within his potion had saved his grace, no… he believed it even, for it was an unlikely, but powerful and proud force.

Castiel felt like he had his life back. While his new normal held important changes within it did not turn out to be all that different as the one before. Stretching out his wings unseen he stared at them, blinking at the renewed glow to the remaining feathers… whole, but not. Healed and not a full angel. It felt strange, but also not. No, he could get used to this, and if he could then so could Sam and Dean. In fact, he had plenty to give the world still, not as a soldier but a hunter, the path he had chosen to follow and would see through to the end.

**THE END**


End file.
